


When Miracles Fail

by EccentricFangirl777



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, As Does the Rest of the Gang, Bellamy Also Deals With A Lot of Guilt, Bellamy PoV, But She Can Get Brutal, Echo is Not a Bitch in this Fic, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Torture, Isolation, Just a whole Angst Fest, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Might throw in some Clarke POV too, Mostly Bellamy POV though, Médicins Sans Frontières | Doctors Without Borders, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:30:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EccentricFangirl777/pseuds/EccentricFangirl777
Summary: Everyone looks up when the doors to the bar slam open, and in runs a spooked Murphy— and Murphy is never spooked. Waving away the questions of his friends, he turns to Miller and demands, "Turn on the news.""What, why?""Just do it!" There's an edge of desperation, of hysteria to his words, and without another word, Miller does as instructed. Bellamy stands up to take a closer look at the screen.The whole world comes crashing down around him.-The modern!AU in which Clarke joins Doctors Without Borders, is kidnapped, and everyone thinks she's dead until six years later.





	When Miracles Fail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is not a reflection of my opinion of Doctors Without Borders nor is it meant to paint the organization in a negative light; please keep that in mind! Thank you :)

"Hey Bellamy!" Octavia hollers next to Lincoln, waving her arm excitedly once she spots her brother walk in arm-in-arm with his girlfriend. “We’re over here!”

"I can see that," Bellamy says, laughing as he bends down to kiss her on her forehead. "Sorry we’re late, we got held back by traffic. Hope we didn’t miss anything."

"Nah," Monty says, passing him and Echo a drink, "we just started a few minutes ago."

"Thanks." Bellamy takes the drinks and hands his girlfriend one. "We’re lucky that service is slow tonight, otherwise we’d be kicked out for being too noisy," he jokes, and Monty snorts. He’s about to say something when Harper yells at him to help her, and he gives the couple an apologetic before jogging over to his girlfriend, who is glaring playfully at a haughty Octavia and grinning Lincoln.

Bellamy surveys the group. Octavia is in a competitive game of beer pong with Lincoln, Monty, and Harper, Emori and Raven are cheering them on, and Jackson is at the bar talking with Shaw and Miller, who is currently working the last hour of his shift. Other than that, the bar is pretty empty. He frowns. "Hey, where’s Murphy?"

Raven and Emori look away from the game and exchange glances. "I’m not sure," Emori says slowly, her eyebrows furrowing. "He texted me fifteen minutes ago that he’s going back to the apartment to grab some stuff, but he hasn’t replied to my texts since then."

"Mmm," he hums, scratching his head in bewilderment.

"That’s weird," Echo murmurs beside him. "He always replies to Emori’s texts pretty quickly."

"Maybe he’s held up by traffic?"

Echo sends him a withering look and snorts. "Since when does driving stop him from texting?"

Bellamy chuckles, nodding. "Good point." While Murphy doesn’t always text while driving, he does it enough times that keeps Bellamy on the edge of his seat whenever he hitches a ride with Murphy, which, now that he thinks about it, is not really good for his mental health. The boy was a speed demon. 

"He better not get into an accident," he hears Emori grumble under her breath before she turns back to the beer pong game, visibly more subdued than she had been just couple minutes ago.

Tugging Echo with him, Bellamy inches closer to the game and asks Raven who the winning team is so far. "It’s O and Linc," she says without taking her eyes off the game and cheers loudly when Octavia sinks a ball into another cup. "Yes!" Raven crows, pumping her fist, and points at Emori, grinning. "A couple more rounds, and that $25 is mine!"

Emori huffs, shaking her head. "I shouldn’t have bet that much."

Raven throws her head back, laughing. "You probably shouldn't have. I'm always right after all!"

At this point, Shaw and Jackson walk back to the group, a few drinks in hand. "Hey Bellamy, Echo," Shaw says, raising one of the glasses in his hand as a greeting. Even though he and Raven have been dating for nearly one year, he’s still a bit awkward with the group, not quite used to the bombastic but close-knit dynamic they all share. Still, he’s a nice addition to the group, and he complements Raven well— his gentle nature is the voice of reason to Raven’s more snarky, caustic short temper.

Soon, the game is finished, with Octavia and Lincoln completely crushing Monty and Harper, and the friends are gathered around the table exchanging barbs and insults. Bellamy is pulled away from Octavia’s story about a class she took last semester with a professor who was the epitome of ‘too much information’ by Echo, who is giving Emori worried looks. "She’s been looking at her phone for the past few minutes," she whispers to Bellamy’s ear, and they watch as Emori’s face ashens. "Emori?" Echo asks, alarmed, and catches the attention of the others.

"What’s wrong?"

"Emori, are you okay?"

Emori sets down the phone shakily and looks up, her eyes snapping to Bellamy's in horror. Her mouth opens to say something just when the door to the bar slams open and in runs a spooked Murphy. Murphy is _never_ spooked, and that instantly draws the worry of the others. He waves it all away and turns to Miller. "Turn on the news," he demands, his voice slightly shaky.

"What, why?"

"Just do it!" he yells, and there’s a tinge of desperation that they rarely if ever hear, and Miller follows his command without another word. The remote in his hand drops soon after the TV flashes to life, and Bellamy stands up to take a closer look at the screen.

The whole world comes crashing down around him.

"Oh my god," he hears someone gasp, and distantly he notes the shock, the disbelief that coats the words, but _he doesn’t care_.

' _DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS CAPTIVES RESCUED FROM POLIS AFTER 6 LONG YEARS_ '

Because there, smack-dab in the middle of the screen, above the glaring letters, is Clarke Griffin's smiling face, a photo that he knew had been taken while she was still a resident all those years ago, and Bellamy could feel his slowly-mending heart start to crack, disbelief and horror washing over him.

_Clarke Griffin is alive._

_She had been alive all this time._

 

* * *

 

Bellamy remembers the day his life changed and not for the better.

That day, six years ago.

He and Clarke had been fighting about her decision to join Doctors Without Borders. Normally, he wouldn't have been so adamantly against it, as she _had_ done something similar while she was still in med school, and upon her return, he could tell that it had changed her for the better. More mature, more determined. It was clear to anybody that that type of work, travelling to locations where people needed help the most, was rewarding and meaningful to Clarke.

But this is different. More dangerous. Because even though she'd volunteered at several international clinics, Clarke had never once gone to a country torn by war.

Her assignment had been Polis. It was a country that had succumbed to inner political conflict and started a civil war recently, and already, the news of terror, gunfire, bombs, and  _deaths_  had terrified Bellamy. He didn't want her to go; he begged her to reconsider, to choose anywhere else but there. But Clarke had taken his face in her hands and said that it'd only be for a few months, that even though the destination was in a state of war, targeting hospitals was against humanitarian laws.

 _"It's **war** , Clarke,_" he'd said.  _"There are no rules in war._ _"_

He knew that she knew it too, that the danger was still there and very much palpable.

But still she wouldn't change her mind and it was the first time that Bellamy cursed her compassionate heart. He knew that she'd always dreamed to one day join Doctors Without Borders, that she believed in its mission for humanitarian aid without any political agenda, that existed purely to  _help_. He knew that Clarke Griffin was anything if not stubborn, and she never backed down from a challenge, from work that most normal people were hesitant to attempt.

So, that day, he, weary and worried, stood at the airport with their friends, saying goodbye to Clarke.

 _"Please be safe,"_ he'd said— no,  _pleaded_ — pulling her into his arms as he pretended the tears that fell onto her hair were non-existent.

Clarke had pulled away first, smiling at him with that sparkle in her blue, blue eyes, stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, and whispered, _"I will."_

He'd watched with the others as they watched Clarke walk away, his heart thudding under his chest, the place she'd kissed his cheek like a heavy weight. The words left unsaid whispered in his head,

' _I love you, I love you._ '

Bellamy wishes more than anything that he'd had the courage to say them to her.

Maybe— just maybe— it would've been enough to get her to stay.

But he never did because he thought he had time. He thought that when she came back from her mission, that he'd have a chance to tell her.

 _But he never got his chance._  


End file.
